


Certainty

by alistairweekend



Series: Izelle Lavellan [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 21:17:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3425921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alistairweekend/pseuds/alistairweekend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An interpretation of the first kiss scene with Cullen, tailored to my Inquisitor, Izelle Lavellan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Certainty

The crisp breeze cutting across the tops of Skyhold’s battlements left stinging pinpricks on Izelle’s cheeks. She resisted the urge to glance over at Cullen beside her, a jittery sensation taking root in her stomach at the mere thought. It was ridiculous. This was just a walk, like so many other walks the two had taken before. Cullen and Izelle were  _friends_.

But the last stroll they had taken together had been back at Haven, nearly two months ago. Everything had changed so much in so little time. Just as Izelle started to believe she had a good grasp on handling things, something always went and blew up in her face. Sometimes literally.

The change that Izelle felt the most since moving into Skyhold, however, was a subtle, and personal, one. The more time she spent away from Cullen, the more she had felt herself missing him. Of course she saw him each time she called for the war council, but he was Commander then, not quite the same Cullen she had befriended in Haven. One lucky time she managed to snag him when they were both free, and he taught her how to play a board game. A fluttery feeling she could hardly describe seized her from her head to her toes when Cullen had smiled —  _since when was his smile that charming?_  — and suggested they get together more often. They hadn’t followed up on that promise since, but Izelle’s longing had only grown stronger till it was unbearable.

Izelle was well in-tune with her inner workings, and she knew what a crush was. There had been a boy back in her clan, a young hunter named Nerin, who had been the object of Izelle’s affections for a time before he had been transferred to a different clan. But that had been very different. For one thing, Nerin and Izelle had exchanged maybe ten words in their lifetime. As a child, Izelle had been much too shy to approach someone she admired.

Cullen was also a templar, and she a mage. Izelle had never had any contact with templars before the conclave, but they made her nervous. However, Cullen was different. He had told her about his experience in Ferelden’s Circle, something that was obviously hard for him to recount. Despite his openness with her, Izelle feared he would hold back because of what she was.

The most glaring factor, however, was that Cullen was human. For a while shame weighed down Izelle. What would her clan think? Some bitter part of her mind berated herself, told her that she was abandoning her principles as a Dalish elf.

But as time went on and Izelle settled into the role of Inquisitor, she realized that the chances of her returning to her clan someday were very slim, if even that. It was not a happy thought, yet at the same time she found it… liberating, in a sense. She would always be Dalish. There was just no obligation to follow their rules any longer.

“It’s a… nice day,” Cullen remarked, a hand at the back of his neck in a clear gesture of awkwardness. When Izelle didn’t reply, he stopped, forcing her to halt as well and look at him directly. “Was there something you wished to discuss, Izelle?”

Warmth flooded her cheeks as he said her name. Not “my lady”, not “Herald” — Creators, how she hated that title — not “Inquisitor”. It was a rare occasion that he addressed her so informally, and she liked the way her name sounded coming from his voice.

_Something I wished to discuss._  Izelle hadn’t specifically said she wanted to talk with him, only that she wished to walk and inspect the battlements, but she supposed that implied she wanted to speak with him.  _Curse me, I didn’t think this through very well._

Her mind ever-so-helpfully resurfaced the memory of about a month ago, at the war table. Izelle had been moving a marker to an area on the Fereldan side of the map and when she happened to glance up, there was Cullen across from her, staring right at her. When their eyes met, he started and quickly looked away… not before Izelle saw his face redden. Leliana and Josephine seemed to talk in hushed whispers more often after that, and giggled excessively, and Izelle had been confused but brushed it off — the two of them had been friends for so long, maybe they were finally comfortable in Skyhold to have some leisure.

It just now occurred to her that it was possible her feelings could be reciprocated.

An odd feeling spread throughout her chest, like the fluttery sensation of infatuation amplified several times, and before she knew it it was spilling out through her mouth in the form of her voice. “Cullen, I care for you, and—” She caught herself before she could say more with a small, sharp intake of breath, mortified. Surely her face was redder than her hair.

Cullen’s lips parted in surprise, and his face was unreadable as he processed what she had said. Izelle’s mouth formed into a frown, dreading what would come next.

“What’s wrong?”

Well. She hadn’t expected that to be his response. “I-I just… I know you left the templars, but… could you ever care for a mage?”  _What am I saying? Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

His expression grew firm. “I could.” A pause. “I mean, I do! Think of you.” He chuckled nervously, rubbing his forehead. “What I might say in this situation…”

Izelle was fairly certain her heart had stopped beating and was instead trying to forcefully burst out of her chest.

“It’s just… You’re the Inquisitor. We’re at war. And you…” He stepped forward, and Izelle unconsciously stepped back, pressing against the stone of the battlements. Her hand rested on the top of the wall, and a sharp pebble pressed into her palm, but she took no notice. “I didn’t think it was possible,” he said softly.

“And yet I’m still here,” she whispered.

A ghost of a smile passed on his face, and then he was even closer, leaning in, eyes closing. Izelle hardly dared to breathe, unable to take her eyes away from his face until she decided she had better shut her eyes as well. She felt his breath on her lips, and then —

The sound of a door slamming jolted them apart, a rush of adrenaline making Izelle jump. Cullen pulled away and turned to see a scout approaching him from the direction of his turret. Izelle tilted her head back and took deep breaths.

Cullen didn’t say anything as he stepped away to meet the scout, but something about his posture clued Izelle to the fact that he was utterly seething.

“You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana’s report, ser.”

_“What.”_  It wasn’t a question. It was a growl. If she had been an unaffected bystander, Izelle would have been laughing.

The scout’s confidence was taken down a notch. “Sister Leliana’s report…? You wanted it delivered… without delay.”

Hard silence. Izelle could only imagine the glare on Cullen’s face.

The scout glanced at Izelle, leaning against the wall, and she looked away, passing a hand over her face in a forced attempt to seem casual. The man’s face dawned in understanding. “Or… to your office?” He backed away slowly, and Cullen continued to stare him down. “Right.” He ran.

Izelle cleared her throat. “Um, if you need to—”

Cullen marched back over to her, took her face in his hands, and kissed her with force as she let out a small sound of shock. Her hands, left hanging in the air, retreated to her sides as she melted into the contact.

They broke apart after what seemed like forever and yet all too soon. Cullen stayed close, though, and his hands remained where they had migrated to Izelle’s hips. He gulped. “I’m sorry,” he said, a tiny tremor to his voice. “That was… um… really nice.”

Izelle gave a huff of laughter, but grew quiet and locked eyes with him, her gaze earnest. “You don’t regret it, do you?” It was silly, but there was still that sliver of doubt, convincing her he would change his mind and leave and claim the entire incident had never happened.

He seemed somewhat taken aback. “No!” he assured her hastily. “No. Not at all.” The last sentence was gentle, and Cullen cupped her face with one hand and pressed his lips to hers again with equal tenderness. And with that, the flicker of uncertainty was extinguished, and Izelle smiled.


End file.
